Moonlight Sonata
by SqueekyPhr33k
Summary: Has music ever moved you to tears?


Johnny laid on his couch watching his muted TV lazily. He hadn't been out of the house for nearly three days now. This didn't seem to bother him as he watched the flashing lights from the old television set. He absent mindedly yawned, then suddenly frowned in disapproval of his ability to sleep at that moment.

His ears perked when he heard soft piano playing far away. He blinked, trying hard to realize if it was real or not, if his mind was playing tricks on him or if he accidentally unpressed the mute button. He stared at the TV for a few moments. The commercial obviously wasn't meant to be playing piano music, and the soap opera he watched seemed not nearly sophisticated enough to have music such as this.

It was beautiful, in its softness, this person was talented. The sound echoed through his open window on the clear fall night.

He questioned himself, why was he not looking up at the stars like he normally does on an evening such as this?

He silently crawled out his window, watching the stars peacefully as the wonderful music seemed to accompany the beautiful sight. He smiled, and he felt tears well up, this was so gorgeous. He almost felt unworthy in the beauty of all things combined. The cool breeze, the lovely scent of fall washing over him, the twinkling stars watching him from above, and of course the music. The phenomenal music.

He felt himself swaying with this whole entirety of senses. He was lost in it. It was almost too much for him. He was weeping softly. He hadn't felt this joyous since...he wasn't going to let himself think of it.

The music washed away his previous thoughts. It felt like it could rinse him clean, like he could begin anew. As if he was forgiven, from himself and anything else that held him in its merciless grip. He broke down, he was trying to hold himself back, but everything just overwhelmed him in its elegance.

He lay down in the leaves, the soft, dry sound of the leaves comforted him and seemed to accompany the music like it was meant to be there. The smell from the cool ground pacified him to almost a comfortable sleep, but he held himself to stay conscious.

The leaves rustled quietly as he rolled to his side and gazed around trying to see where the music was coming from. All the houses near him had no lights on, they all seemed abandoned, nothing was amiss. Only his house had the flickering lights spread across the leafy ground, making more beautiful images that were only left for him to see.

It was a wonder, how could something so beautiful as this be meant for him, as it seemed to be.

He gave a shaking breath as he realized he'd stopped weeping. He wasn't sure if he was content or if he had just run out of tears. Though, it was tiresomely comforting to lay across the ground, watch the stars shimmer over the houses across from him.

He was so grateful to witness such a beautiful night, to hear such fascinating music, and to finally feel like he was satisfied. As if he was whole. The emptiness was filled.

His thoughts flowed along like a slow moving silent train. He was happy there were no voices to ruin such a night, though he wished he could share this with Nailbunny.

He inquired if he should find where the music was coming from and thank them. A horrible thought came to him, he would only ruin something as beautiful as this. A wave of sorrow passed over him, but the curiosity still remained.

Johnny slowly rose to his feet and let the melody lead him through the street. He felt light, everything was lifted, he was himself again, all except for the memories were restored.

The leaves softly crackled as he stepped through them. He spun in his excitement, in his energy, like he'd just awoken from a long deserved nap, yet there was no fear. No unnerving feeling that he couldn't remember where he was.

He knew where he was, and he was happy to be there.

The harmony lead him to a small, weather beaten house near the end of his street. All of the lights were off, and he questioned if he was at the right place. Then, the piano let out its call, softly welcoming him into the old house.

Johnny peered through the dark opening that was meant to be a window.

He saw a pale, emotionless female face, behind a piano that seemed to be looking right at him. He was curious what that person saw, and why they did not panic at the shadowy stranger.

He felt his eyes tingle again, and the lump in his throat return. The woman was not much older than him, she continued to move with the music that she created uninterrupted.

Johnny felt she welcomed him, he felt she understood him more than he ever could. He was letting the warm tears roll down his cheek.

Johnny rested his hands on the window sill, and could only watch in awe as she pressed the keys that made wonderful sound. It was a wonder she could see, it was so dark in there, darker than outside.

His urge to get a better view of her came to him, he lifted himself easily and set his steel toed boots on the creaking floor with a soft clink.

She suddenly paused. Her delicate hands poised above the keys in complete stillness. She listened intently, her eyes moved to him.

Johnny spoke softly, "Please, continue."

She hesitated for a moment, then picked right back up where she had stopped.

Johnny couldn't take it anymore, his tears still continued to fall. He let out a soft sob, and looked to the ground, in slight embarrassment for entering her window and interrupting this.

He came to her, her eyes followed him, then looked straight ahead, back through the window Johnny had spotted her staring at him.

He noticed there was no sheet music, she played this entirely from memory.

He choked. He realized why she hadn't reacted when he was at the window.

_She was blind._

Johnny felt his knees weaken. Why, how could such a beautiful thing such as this be deprived of such a sense?

_She could never see the stars._

That was all he could think, she could never share all of things that he had just encountered. He felt sorry for her, he wept a little louder, trying not to frighten her.

_She had her music._

He thought, trying to comfort himself from the sad realization. Though, she looked to the window like she wanted something more, like something was going to come and give her what she wanted.

_And her music was what would lure it in._

Johnny suddenly felt out of place. He, surely, was not what she desired. What could he give to her that would make her soul rest? He had nothing to offer, nothing that would give her release.

He swallowed his tears this time, painfully. She opened her mouth, and began to speak. The voice was almost as beautiful as the sounds coming from the piano.

"Are you my angel?" She asked, as if she was wanting to ask that her whole life.

Before Johnny could think thoroughly, he spoke, "I am."

She smiled, and Johnny could almost do the same.

"I've been waiting for you." It was almost eerie to see her speak, like she was meant to be mute too. As if she was only supposed to be gifted in birthing one sound, the music that she continually played. But maybe that's what made up for her sight, harmony in sounds she can create and listen to. She sweetly parted her lips to speak again. "I hope you are enjoying this."

He let the piano sounds flow through him again, "I am.". He swallowed as she still played the same long, comforting song. "Can I ever thank you enough?" He asked, slightly monotone, as he watched her throw every bit of herself into the music.

"Of course you can." She assured him. "You're my angel."

Johnny tensed, he didn't want to lead her on, she seemed so fragile, like something bad had happened to her before.

"I-" Johnny started. He didn't know what to say, she seemed to believe that he could help her. Almost too much.

"It's alright." She said. "I understand."

He was puzzled, how could she? Did she know he was a killer? Did she know all those horrible things he has done? How did she when he doesn't even know himself? How could she? How could she understand, and keep that expressionless, beautiful look on her face?

The melody was near to its end, Johnny felt like he might mourn for it.

"I don't think you do. You see, I..." He held himself for a moment at what he just said. She was blind for Christ's sake! He collected himself again and re-stated, "You think, that I-"

She stopped him with a simple wave of her hand.

"You don't need to explain anything. I do not want to know." She calmly spoke. Johnny nodded.

"What is it that you want?" He whispered, she had stopped playing and it seemed too strange to speak without the music accompanying them. He stared at her hands softly resting in her lap.

"I wish to see my son's face again." She said, almost as if she knew what he was going to ask.

"I don't think I can..." Johnny mumbled, he shook with the sudden rush of anticipation.

"You know how." She turned to face him. He was almost struck down by her beauty and bravery to face such a merciless killer. "I've been waiting."

"You're so beautiful." He said to her, "I hope I always remember you." His memory was so blurred now, it hurt him to think that he might never remember this.

"I will remember you." She smiled, and stood, her gown falling to her ankles, softly shimmering in the moonlight, much like the blade on Johnny's knife.

"I...I'm sorry." Johnny blurted out, a hot tear fell from him.

She stood still, almost rigid, yet calm, and ready for what was going to take place.

"Please, enjoy this like my music." She let a smile escape her lips. Johnny let out a shaking breath.

He grasped the handle tightly and softly laid the blade against her rising and falling chest. He took a long gaze into her eyes, at her face and how emotionless she stared at him, it was comforting.

He hesitantly put an arm around her back, to steady her from the coming blow.

She tenderly held onto the sleeve of his shirt, as if she knew he didn't want to be touched.

Johnny thrust the blade into her quickly and she opened her mouth in slight surprise. Johnny begged in his head that she wouldn't scream. She only let a small gasp escape her, but nothing to destroy her beauty.

Hot blood spilled down her gown and around the fingers on Johnny's clasped hand.

Her eyes fluttered and she stared straight ahead, Johnny pretended she could see him.

"Thank you." She spoke with the same voice as before, as if the stab didn't affect her. Her grip on his shirt was loosening, and she seemed to be getting paler. The life was leaving her, she was becoming forever beautiful. She fell limp in his grasp.

Johnny laid her down softly on the floor as she finally rested. He took a long gaze at her, she looked at peace, he would have believed she was sleeping.

The piano seemed to watch as if it was waiting for its player to return.

He closed the piano's cover softly, letting it rest also, and left the house as silently as he had entered it.

The stars watched him from above, they gleamed in acceptance.

Johnny listened to the music coming from a place he could not reach.


End file.
